The Case of the Little Mermaid
by a-few-of-these-verses
Summary: The day before her wedding, Camilla Temple goes to Sherlock and John to help find her missing groom. As the details emerge, they discover that the case has taken the form of the famous tale by Hans Christian Anderson.


It was the hottest day of the year. People shut themselves into their homes to keep out of the heat. John had been out to buy some milk and was eager to be inside his cool flat again. He had just stepped onto the doorstep when something caught his eye. It was a manilla envelope, and as he picked it up, he saw that it was addressed to Sherlock. John lifted the flap and looked inside. A water bottle filled with dirty water was all that it contained. Small stones and sand lined the bottom of it. There was no note, and John immediately thought of a similar envelope that had been delivered to them one year earlier.

"Sherlock," he muttered, opening the door and running up the stairs. "Sherlock!" repeated John when he opened the door to their flat. "I think you-" he stopped when he saw Sherlock talking to a young woman. Her eyes were puffy and red. "Oh, Jesus, I hope you didn't make her cry."

Sherlock turned to him and raised his eyebrows. "Ah, John, this is Camilla Temple."

"Hello," John said, shaking her hand. "Here with a case?"

The woman nodded. "My fiancé is missing. The wedding- it's tomorrow!" She began to cry again.

John glanced at Sherlock. "What do you think? Pre-wedding jitters. Possibly ran off to clear his mind?"

Sherlock shook his head. "It appears to be a kidnapping. She says her fiancé is Erik Portman, though why that matters-"

"Hold on, I know that name. He's the fishing heir. The one who washed up on the shore last year after his boat sank in a storm." It was quite the story if John remembered correctly. Portman was one of the top bachelors in England, young and attractive. He also seemed to be a bit reckless. He went out sailing on a stormy night and crashed his sailboat against the rocks. A young woman found him on the shore and called for help. John looked at the woman across from him. "That makes you-"

"I found Erik," Camilla said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "I just want to find him again."

"Lestrade's at the scene now," Sherlock explained. "Miss Temple is here to try to convince me to take her case."

"You've found missing people before."

John suddenly remembered the envelope in his left hand. "This came for you," he said, handing it to him. Sherlock opened the envelope and took out the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed it.

"It's from the ocean," he said, screwing the cap back on. He peered at the contents at the bottom. "And there's sediment collected at the bottom."

"What does that mean?"  
Sherlock stood up and walked to the window. "Where did you get this?"

"It was by the stairs. Sherlock, I know what you're thinking-"

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock yelled, taking large strides across the room. "Mrs. Hudson!" John heard him run down the stairs.

"So, is it going to be a big wedding?" John asked.

"It's supposed to be, yes," answered Camilla. "I swear that if that dancer is involved in this-"

"Dancer?"

Camilla rolled her eyes. "Yes, dancer," she spat. "She's a quiet thing and acts wide eyed and innocent while she dances at a club."

"Why would she be involved?"

"Erik... Erik used to go there, before we met. Apparently she was his favorite. Her vocal cords were messed up in a botched surgery, so she can barely talk, but it's pretty obvious that she has the biggest crush on him."

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson walked into the room together, Sherlock holding something wrapped in paper.

"They came this morning," Mrs. Hudson explained. "I don't know who sent them."

"What are they?" John asked. Sherlock dropped what he was holding on the table and the paper unraveled revealing at least a dozen fish tails cut off from their respective bodies. "Fish tails?"

"Exactly," said Sherlock, pulling out his phone. "Lestrade, I need you to look for something. At the crime scene, I believe that there will be something in an envelope, the envelope being sealed with wax. You've found something like that? What is it?" Sherlock paused, and John saw something click. "That will be all, I'll let you know if I've found something."

"Sherlock, what did they find?" asked John.

"The stories of Hans Christian Anderson."

"What?" Camilla asked. "What's that got to do with anything?"

The pieces fell together. "The Little Mermaid," John said.

"Very good, John," Sherlock said with a smile. "The fish tails represent the mermaid's tail that she gave up, and I'm assuming that water sample is where we'll find Erik."

"But it's just a fairy tale," Camilla argued. "It's not real."

"Ms. Temple, are you familiar with the story? I'll explain it to you since your mind appears to be so dull. There was a mermaid who enthralled with the land above. One night she went to the surface and fell in love with a prince. There was a storm that night and the prince nearly drowned, but the mermaid saved his life and brought him to shore. After she leaves, another woman finds him and gets him help. The mermaid went to a sea witch, and trades her voice and tail for legs. She is told that it will be extremely painful to walk, but she takes the risk regardless. The prince soon finds her and brings her into the palace to take care of her. She dances for him because he likes it, even though the pain is excruciating. The prince pines after the woman who he believed to have rescued him, and he eventually finds her. The couple marry, and the mermaid is given the opportunity by her sisters to kill him. She couldn't do it, and she throws herself into the ocean instead." Sherlock sat down in his chair and smiled. "No offense, but you don't exactly sound like the mermaid in this situation."

"Um, she did mention a dancer when you were out," John suggested.

"Ah, good, what was her name?"

"Gillian," Camilla said, "Gillian Loch. She works at the _Girls Galore! _club by the docks."

"Thank you. John, I'll be at Bart's to determine where this water came from. Ms. Temple, you're free to leave."

"What about me, Sherlock?"

Sherlock grinned. "Naturally, you're going to find Miss Gillian Loch."

* * *

It wasn't as if John hadn't been to strip clubs before; he had, but today he felt extremely uncomfortable doing so. He arrived at the club and talked to the manager, asking where he could find Gillian. The manager told him that she was dancing but would have her break in thirty minutes. John sat at the bar and ordered a beer and tried to blend in as much as he could. Women danced against poles, gyrating to the music. John really tried not to look, but he ended up locking eyes with one of the women. She looked young, and had wavy blonde hair and wide blue eyes. The brief description that Camilla had given him made him believe that this was the woman he was to meet.

Thirty minutes passed, and John was on his third drink. The same blonde woman walked up to him at the bar and smiled.

"Are you Gillian Loch?" he asked. She nodded, and John pulled a pen and notepad out of his pocket. "My name's John Watson. I heard that you can't talk, so you can write your answers on this. You probably haven't heard this yet, but Erik Portman has gone missing. He's probably been kidnapped."

Gillian's eyes widened and her smile was gone. She scribbled quickly onto the pad. John leaned over and read her writing.

_When did this happen?_

"Sometime during the night," he answered. "His fiancée believes that you might be connected."

Gillian shook her head. _I didn't have anything to do with this, I swear._

"How did you know Erik Portman?"

_I saved his life._

"Ms. Temple claims that she did that."

Gillian shook her head again. _I was walking home during that storm when I saw his boat crash into the rocks. I ran off of the docks and swam out to him. He was drowning. I pulled him to shore and left to __get help. By the time I found somebody to help me, she was already there with him._

"But you saw him again after that? Camilla Temple doesn't sound like she likes you."

_Erik would come here sometimes. He liked it when I danced for him. You have to believe me that I would never do anything to him. I just want him to be happy and safe._

"We're on the same team then. We've been left some clues, and we're trying to put them together to find Erik."

_What kind of clues?_

"Some fish tails, a book of fairy tales, and a bottle of dirty water."

_The dirty water- what was in it?_

"Stones and sand, stuff to help us find the area."

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Gillian's mind because suddenly she was smiling again.

_If the kidnapper is playing a game, I think I know where he is. I'll be right back._

Gillian left the bar and John read her notes over again. This was the mermaid of the case, mute and rejected by the man she loved. Though he felt himself faintly rooting for her own happiness, John knew that happily-ever-afters were a rare find in the real world.

Gillian returned wearing streetclothes, and together they left the club. Taking the pad and pen again, she scribbled that they needed to go to the area where she rescued Erik. John pulled his phone out and called Sherlock.

"John, you know I'm busy-"

"We think we know where he is."

"What?"

"Gillian thinks that the kidnapper took him to the spot where he was rescued."

"Oh! Of course! Stupid.. why didn't I think of it first? I'll phone Lestrade, have him send out a team. I'll be out shortly."

John and Gillian continued to walk together, the wind tousling her hair slightly. In the light, she looked even younger and more innocent.

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

_21_

"And why are you dancing at a strip club?"

She shrugged. _It's a living. Don't laugh, but I used to want to work with fish. I couldn't afford to go to university, and my grades weren't as good as they could have been, so here I am._

"Don't give up just yet. Maybe there's still a chance for you."

_Maybe._

They walked for another fifteen minutes and John could smell the sea in the air. Gillian stopped and held John's jacket, pointing out at the rocks.

"There?"

She nodded.

Halfway to the rocks, John recognized a figure on the beach. "Sherlock!" he called out. Sherlock looked up.

"Where did you find him?" he asked Gillian when they reached him.

She pointed to the rocks again, and they began to walk their again. "Gillian Loch, this is Sherlock Holmes," he introduced. "Sherlock, this is Gillian. Apparently she rescued Portman before Camilla found him."

"Interesting, just like the mermaid."

Gillian looked at John, a confused expression on her face. John shrugged, feigning ignorance. They had nearly reached the rocks when Gillian broke into a sprint. There appeared to be something laying in front of them, and John and Sherlock quickly followed suit.

By the time they ran to the rocks, Gillian was already untying the ropes around Portman's hands. The man appeared to be unconscious, and there was dried blood on his head. John crouched next to them, taking hold of one of his wrists. He was relieved to find a steady pulse. Sherlock was on his mobile again, letting Lestrade know where he could find them.

"He's been here for four hours at most," Sherlock said, his eyes going over the man's body. "He was hit in the head with a blunt object, but it wasn't here. No, he was moved from his home to this place. His right arm was also injected with some sort of chemical, probably to keep him unconscious in case he woke up again."

"But he will be alright, yeah?" John asked.

"He'll come out of it."

"Sherlock, who would do this? It's not Moriarty this time. What do you think, one of the people in his web?"

"It could be, or it could also be a copycat. You put the case of the Bruhl children up some time after I went into hiding, so anyone could have read it."

"Look, I put that up to try to prove your innocence-"

A murmuring sound interrupted John. Portman was beginning to stir. Gillian was nowhere to be found.

John stood and spun around. There was no sight of her anywhere. "Gillian!" he called. Naturally, there was no answer. In the distance he saw Lestrade's car drive into view. The police would be with them shortly.

"Sherlock, she's gone," John said as he joined Sherlock again.

"She probably realized her part in the story would not be continued," he said, his eyes still fixed on Portman. "Can you hear me?"

Portman groaned as he sat up. "Where am I? And who are you?"

"We're here to help," John answered. "You've been hit in the head, and you're probably been drugged."

"Shit," Portman put and to his head and softly touched the injured area. "Is Camilla alright?"

"She's fine. She'll be here soon, I suppose."

"Yes, that's all fine," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. "Who did this to you?"

Portman shook his head. "I don't know."

"Oh come on, you have to remember something. Man, woman, who was it? How many?"

"Sherlock, he's in shock."

"I've been in shock and I could still function-"

"Sherlock."

Sherlock stopped speaking and stood up. "I'll be back with Lestrade." He walked away and John turned to Portman.

"Sorry, he's always like that."

Portman smiled weakly. "Thanks for finding me. How did you do it?"

"We had some help," John answered. "Look, there's something you should know: Gillian Loch helped us. She left before you woke up; I suppose it was her being shy or something, but without her, we probably wouldn't have found you for some time."

"Alright, so what do you want me to do?"

"Help her. She wants to go to university but is having a difficult time coming up with the money. Maybe you could help her a little bit. She's done so much for you, and you don't even know it."

Portman thought it over, and John heard voices behind him. Before Camilla threw her arms around him, he nodded. "Alright."

John smiled. It would have been as she wanted, but maybe Gillian would have her happy ending after all.


End file.
